Out of the Ashes
by DigitalArtMonster
Summary: We know that ghost are the left over emotions of the dead, and we know ghosts reside in the Ghost Zone. But do we know how they get there once they die? One Shot.


Cold. It's so cold. She can't remember what she was doing. Where was she? It's too dark. Oh wait, her eyes are closed. She blinks, the sky is a beautiful shade of periwinkle, it must be dawn. The sun's rays filter in through the torn up roof, helping to warm her a bit, she can feel her senses returning. Slowly she regains feeling in her body and sits up.

The first thing to catch her attention is the charred remains of what used to be a large bedroom. A fire? Why would she fall asleep in a burned down house? Looking around the room she notices the few things that survived. Some sheet music, a few rock band posters, and even an old acoustic guitar. Whoever lived in this room was obviously into music. She scratches at her neck. Oh, she's wearing a necklace, bringing it up to her face to inspect she can make out a name. Kimberly, that must be her name.

She gets up and walks towards the surprisingly intact door, except for a few scorch marks. Upon opening it she is met with a dilapidated manor. She's taken aback by the extravagant architecture that survived. It appears to be French Rococo judging by the intricacies of every wall filigree.

She's not too sure why she knows that. She's not too sure of anything. She's not even sure about who she is. What she is sure about though is that the answers she seeks are within these walls. She doesn't know how she knows, but something inside of her is telling her to keep looking. Making her way around the massive halls she comes across another slightly intact room. It looks like a master bedroom. The little warm spot in her chest tells her to go in.

It looks like a couple lived in this room. There are both dresses and suits lying about, some singed and others turned to ashes. She walks over to the elegant Victorian style vanity and picks up one of the many picture frames littering the surface. This one is of a very beautiful young woman in an equally beautiful sundress. The woman had sparkling teal eyes and long ginger hair. She was smiling so bright it was almost dimming the engagement ring she was showing off to the camera.

Picking up another picture, this one of a very handsome blonde haired blue eyed man. He as well was dressed very elegantly. She looks between both pictures and can't shake the familiarity she feels. She knows these people. She picks up a third picture, this time it's is the two of them but much older. The woman has cut her hair and the man has thinned out a bit. The most prominent difference is in the woman's big belly. She puts down the picture.

She's sure that she knows these people. The warmth in their eyes as they look at the camera is so familiar it burns. She continues down the halls until she reaches the back gardens. Though graveyard is a better way to describe them. All the once vibrant flowers of different colors are long gone. The marble statues are but shadows of what they used to be. Even the secret swing under the weeping willow tree is broken down.

Her head starts pounding. Why can't she remember anything!? Everything is mocking her with little clues but she can't piece it together. A snapping twig catches her attention. She turns around and nearly has a heart attack. There in the archway of the gardens is the woman from the photos. The pink dress and white gloves only add to the elegance that she is, almost looks like a queen. The woman has a very sad expression, tears already pooling in her teal eyes.

She has so many feelings running rampant at the same time. Fear, hatred, regret, and this woman is the source. Looking closer she notices the woman carrying a bouquet of Hibiscus. Huh, those are her favorite flowers too. Behind the woman the blond man enters the gardens carrying a picture frame, also looking very sad. She just stands there, unable to say a word. These people are actually here, she can ask them what is going on, what this place is, who they are. Maybe they'll even know who she is.

The couple walk over to the center fountain, a structural masterpiece littered with dead leaves and vines. The once beautiful marble is now cracked and missing pieces, she walks over to the couple. In barely above a whisper she says hello, but it was too faint for them to hear. However before she can try again they begin to speak.

It appears that they are talking to their daughter. Oh, they're grieving. She feels so out of place now, but has a strong feeling that she should tell them that it's ok, that their daughter is fine, wherever she It. The woman begins to cry, her husband comforting her and whispering sweet nothings. They talk about how much they loved her and how sorry they were they couldn't tell her. They are so proud of her for always standing up for what she believed in. Even though she was quite rebellious and refused to wear anything that wasn't black, they loved her and are so sorry they couldn't understand her while she was alive.

A strange sense of foreboding descends upon her, she starts breathing a bit faster. She walks over to the couple and tries to offer some form of comfort. However as she attempted to put her hand on the man's shoulder it went straight through him. She stumbles and falls face first into a bush. Digging her self out she sits up and stares at her hand. What the heck? What was that!?

The couple set down the flowers and picture on on the fountain ledge and with one final goodbye take their leave. She watches from her seat on the ground as they take the path down to their car. As she turns to look at the fountain dread begins to seep into her bones. Without taking her eyes off the couple's offerings she stands and cautiously makes her way over.

With every step she grows more and more frightened. That warm spot in her chest has started to burn hotter and hotter as she nears the fountain. Reaching out and picking up the picture the hot spot is searing now. Almost painfully so, like a burning coal. However when she attempts to look at the picture her vision is too blurry to make anything out. Only after a second of confusion is that she realizes she's crying.

Wiping away the baffling tears she gazes upon the beautiful porcelain looking girl. The couple's daughter looked like the perfect blend of the both of them. Beautiful blue eyes, long ginger colored hair and a slender figure, a soft round face and is that a mole under her eye? As she brings the picture closer a single strand of ginger colored hair falls in her line of vision.

She gasps.

Shifting from he strand of hair to the picture she starts hyperventilating. No way. There's no way. She drops the photograph and the glass shatters upon impact, breaking the frame in half. She runs back up the path towards the manor, however she never made it inside. The glass doors leading to the garden caught the light just right. She slams on the breaks and just stares at her reflection in mute horror.

She is the girl in the picture.

She chokes on the air that won't enter her lungs. Taking in her appearance she realizes she wearing the same black pants and black crop top from the photo. She turns around and sprints down the hill path, refusing to believe it. She can't be dead! In her mad dash down the hill she trips on a tree root and tumbles all the way down, slamming into the side of the fountain.

The impact shakes loose a few flower petals. As she blinks away the stars in her eyes writing catches her attention. At the base of the fountain, in elegant French script she reads "Here lies Kimberly McClain, a wonderful daughter and an amazing musician, may she Rest In Peace among the stars".

No! His isn't real! This has to be some nightmare! The hot spot in her chest hurts so much. It's burning a hole through her chest. She grips her shirt in pain, gasping for air that tastes like fire. Fire? A house fire. A house fire that she never made it out of.

Suddenly she starts screaming in agony, the burning in her chest burst into brilliant blue flames, engulfing her in its deadly embrace. She's taken through a sped up version of her death. From the argument with her parents, the yelling and cursing, wishing they would burn in hell, and locking herself away in the secret attic room above her bedroom. The smell of fire, the choking smoke. She passed out from smoke inhalation and never woke up again.

Finally the blue flames die down and she can breath again. However when she looks around, she's not at home anymore. Everything looks like it's made out of green jello. Swirling green vortexes, floating purple doors, even floating islands. She's so scared, she just wants to go home. Suddenly a floating man in a purple cloak appears before her. She screams and backs away. He tells her not to worry, he's here to help. He welcomes her to something called the Ghost Zone, she can't help but start crying.

She just found out she's been dead for six years and that her last words to her parents were to burn in hell. She deserves this for being such a horrible human being. He asks her if she would rather forget. When she makes no move to respond he elaborates, telling her that she can start over here. She can become whoever she wants and that he can help her forget the pain of her past.

Looking up at this strange red eyed...being she thinks it over. But the pain in her heart is too great. She wants to forget, she never wants to feel like this ever again. The being nods his head and with a wave of his staff assures her that she will never feel emotional pain again.

In an echoing voice he tells her that from this day on she will be known as Ember McClain, ghostly rockstar of the Ghost Zone.

DPDPDPDPPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDP

Hey guys! Hope you liked this headcanon heavy story. I was listening to Ember's song the other day and it's literally telling the story of how she dies so that got me thinking on her story and how the process from alive to ghost in the ghost zone goes. Like is there no limbo type period? Do people die and just pop into the ghost zone as they are with these identities? And it also got me thinking that the reason her powers it to manipulate people's feelings is because she got rid of hers because of the trauma.

Also idk why but Kimberly just feels like the right human name for her because if you rearrange some of the letters it spells Ember! Also I headcanon that Clockwork used to welcome new ghosts into the zone and give them the choice of remembering their past or not. He also unlocks their inner desires which manifest into their current physical form and what not. Thanks again for reading any please let me know what you guys think! RR

—DigitalArtMonster


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